Dangerous Liaisons
by catmittens
Summary: When Mirai 17 wants revenge on Trunks, he thinks up a plot. However, he didn't intend for it to go as far as it did... PG13 for a dmn good reason. NOT FLUFFY, rating might go up. Have fun! RR


Ha. Ha. Yes. I know I have 3 unfinished fanfics. Sorry. But...this one just WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE!! *beats head* Maybe I shouldn't have watched DL for French class...  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I do own anyone you don't recognize. Happy?  
  
italics: /word(s)/  
  
**  
  
It was a very strange thing, being alive when you were supposed to be dead.  
  
Insult is added to injury when you knew in your heart of hearts (if that even existed) that the bastard who did it to you is lurking just outside of your reach. It truly is a cruelly humbling experience.  
  
And I do not do well with 'humbling experiences.'  
  
That is precisely why I have to get him back for it, no matter if it gets me killed. No, I won't give him the pleasure. He thinks we're dead, I'd like it to stay that way. That way, once he's dead and buried, we can come back and rule again.  
  
In the meantime I think I'll make him pay.  
  
It was nauseating how the human race had made a 'miraculous' comeback since my 'death' a year ago. I think most of the cowards were hiding from the world, and then from me, the stinking cretins.  
  
The streets of the newly rebuilt east end of West City teemed with happy humans who had no clue just what was lounging against a steel lamp pole and watching them.  
  
And just how fucking long had she been /in/ there?  
  
I checked my watch, my sister had been in that store for no less than three hours, twelve minutes, and thirty-three seconds. And counting.  
  
What sickens me more is the knowledge that this entire city was raised by Capsule Corporation money. I was catering to my enemy, in other words, and my sister couldn't give less of a damn as long as she had her clothes. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm sure she hates him just as much as I do, but lets just say she was always better at controlling her temper. Maybe I should tip over some garbage cans or something.  
  
Trunks.  
  
It only infuriated me more that the only thing I could really concentrate on was a revenge that was never going to happen. Unless I poisoned the bastard, but I like a little more 'hands on' kind of revenge.  
  
I stared disgustedly at a pair of humans passing by who were clinging to each other as if they were fused at the hip. Humans on their own were bad enough, but when they were smooching on each other and doing it in public, it really set me off. Couldn't they keep their damn /hands off/ each other?  
  
"If I ever catch you doing something like that, I'll kill you."  
  
I jerked out of my rant, and fixed a cold glare on my sister. "/Feh/, the day I do /that/, is the day I'll invite Trunks to tea," I replied. "Took you long enough."  
  
"They really didn't have much," Juuhachi said boredly.  
  
Another afternoon of my eternal life, wasted. Was this /really/ how I was supposed to survive until that goddamned bastard bought the farm?  
  
The car we were driving had only one thing going for it. It was /fast/. But I don't think I would even be aware of its drawbacks if my sister hadn't been so utterly /kind/ as to enlighten me. It was an ugly shade of dark, unpolished brown with a dirty light brown and puke green stripe running tip to tail. Its prior owner had niether taken care of it or had a new paint job in several decades.  
  
Juuhachi sat down and leaned back. She'd never really enjoyed driving and I'd never really cared. It was simply that it wouldn't do to have people see us flying.  
  
"Where to now?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, I don't know...home," Juuhachi replied boredly. She was /always/ bored unless she was shopping.  
  
"Fine," I replied. I backed out, put car in gear and hit the gas. I always drove like that and I was never going to stop.  
  
One might ask why, if we wanted to keep a low profile, we were in the very city where Trunks lived? Simple. That was where the best clothing stores were.  
  
I smirked to myself as we passed by the Capsule Corp. residence. You think you killed us and we're right over here, I thought to myself.  
  
"/JUUNANAGOU/!!"  
  
I jerked my eyes back to the road and slammed on the brakes. I think if I had a heart, it would have exploded. My eyes registered solely on the young man waiting to cross the street.  
  
Trunks...  
  
Who apparently did not recognize us. He looked somewhat surprised, but he waved and smiled and walked across the street, the people behind him chattering.  
  
"Go, /now/," my sister snarled.  
  
This car had tinted windows.  
  
+  
  
"That is the /last/ time we ever go to West City!"  
  
My sister turned and glared at me. "Pay attention next time!"  
  
I sank down into the sofa. My head was pounding and as much of a disgrace as it was to admit it, my hands were trembling. "Then you go by yourself," I snapped.  
  
My sister left and went to her room and I stretched out on the couch. Across the room was a kitchen that wasn't being used except for the refridgerator, which was where I was keeping my gun and a few other things.  
  
"Juunana?"  
  
"/What/?" I ground out, too shaken to be bothered.  
  
"Where did you throw my dresses?!"  
  
"Outside," I snapped irritably. It was a lie (I'd had a stroke of insanity and sent them off to be cleaned), but I was in a bad mood. "In the dumpster."  
  
"/Asshole/," my sister yelled from the other room.  
  
"Screw you," I snapped back.  
  
I sat up and turned on the television. Nothing really interesting was ever on. My sister had taken to watching those soap operas that came on every afternoon and it was nearing time for the one I found the most repulsive.  
  
I sat up and walked to the door. "I'm going out!" I snapped and left without waiting for her reply.  
  
When I thought of Trunks I invariably thought of revenge. But /how/? Nothing physical and nothing dangerous. I'd come closer than what I would have liked today.  
  
Who were those ningens following him? They were obviously with him, one was hanging from his arm. Oh, yes. That was his girlfriend. Bitch. I'd gotten sick of that story long ago. It was plastered all over the news. I'd rather not touch anything he had probably fucked.  
  
There were two other ningen with them. One was a boy, and I didn't swing that way. The other one was a girl. I didn't know who the boy was but I did know the girl. She was Alexis Birch, Capsule Corp.'s public correspondant. I'd seen her several times on the news and had been one of the few ningens I had spent my valuable time watching.  
  
It was just kind of funny watching her be paranoid. Wasn't bad with long, uninterrupted speeches, but she wasn't born to deal with the media.  
  
The sports commentary was probably the only other source of interest.  
  
So is /she/ my target? I mused. Talk about pathetic. She's hilariously shy, I've heard she stammers, and has a close relationship with Trunks. Hell, this should be so easy I shouldn't even bother.  
  
Oh well, sucks to be her.  
  
I smiled sadistically.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?"  
  
I turned, sending a chilling glare at the dimwit who had the gall to disturb me. "/Yes/?" I growled.  
  
"Do you know where number 805 is?" the young, apparently oblivious boy asked. He was holding a large cardboard box under one arm and a clipboard in the other.  
  
"That's mine," I snapped. "What do you want?"  
  
"Um...I've got a delivery for a...Juuha--"  
  
"I'll sign for it," I sighed, taking the clipboard without warning and scribbled down my name. "Hey, ningen."  
  
The boy looked a bit startled at being addressed like that but got over it. "How do you get--" did I /ever/ feel humiliated by having to ask this, and if he gave me an unsatisfactory answer I'd just blow off his head to save face, "--a nin--someone--to like you?"  
  
His face lit up like I wished I could light up West City.  
  
+  
  
After an erratic and generally infuriating conversation with a mostly inept (even for a ningen) ningen, I slammed the door shut on my own residence and threw the box at my sister.  
  
My sister watched me curiously as I stormed past the television (making none whatsoever comments as to the lousiness of the program!!!) and into the back room.  
  
Did I /really/ want to go through with this crap? It seemed like a lot of work. Too much, in fact. Be nice to her. Buy her presents. Listen. Be patient. Everything I wasn't particularly good at.  
  
The upside was that I knew that human emotions transcended the affected ningens. It carried over at least to some degree, to their immediate group of friends.  
  
I knew that Birch was close to Rae Perkins, Trunks's girlfriend. And if my sister was any indication, ningen women who were friends would talk about /everything/. My sister was jinzouningen and wouldn't shut up for kami's sake!  
  
To make a long story short, use Birch for indirect revenge.  
  
Now all I had to figure out was how I was going to do it. I'd have to be /very/ careful. For one I stuck out. Most ningens didn't have jet hair and pale blue eyes. And Trunks, as much as I hated to admit, wasn't stupid. Naive, maybe, but not stupid.  
  
My sister chose that moment to walk in the door. "What's with you today?"  
  
"I'm thinking," I replied.  
  
"About /what/?"  
  
You could try to sound a bit more interested if you're going to ask a question, I thought but didn't voice it out loud. "Revenge."  
  
Juuhachi's eyebrow lifted. "Trunks?"  
  
"Right," I replied.  
  
"How?" I could tell I'd inspired something akin to interest.  
  
"Remember how you'd said you'd kill me if you ever caught me with a ningen?"  
  
"...Yes," Juuhachi said, peering down at me with narrowed eyes. "/So/?"  
  
"Well, that's part of the idea..."  
  
Juuhachi grinned. "No way," she laughed.  
  
"What?" I snapped, offended. "You don't think I can pull it off?"  
  
"You used to - and you /still/ - can't stand to even /think/ of--"  
  
"Oh, shut up," I snapped. My sister was still laughing at me. "It's not like I'm looking forward to it."  
  
"So why are you doing it?" my sister asked, mouth twitching.  
  
"To get revenge on Trunks," I replied as if I were explaining it to a three-year-old.  
  
"Right...you're getting revenge on Trunks by fucking one of his friends? How does /that/ do anything?"  
  
"It's a process, you see," I said. "The idea is to make her feel happy and comfortable and all that shit ningens want, and then make all crash down on her."  
  
"And this would get revenge on Trunks /how/?"  
  
"When one ningen goes down, so do the rest of them," I replied.  
  
"How do you plan on not being found out?"  
  
"He thinks I'm /dead/," I pointed out. I glared at her. She looked very amused. "You think I can't do this?"  
  
"Not really," she replied with a burst of laughter. "I'd pay to see you be so much as /courteous/, much less romantic."  
  
"I'll pull it off," I growled. "Would you like me to get /proof/?"  
  
My sister smiled unpleasantly at me. "Proof?"  
  
"Yes, proof," I snapped.  
  
"And if you /can't/?"  
  
I glared at her. "Then you don't get proof," I replied smoothly.  
  
"Why don't you just kidnap her?"  
  
"I don't think there's a more obvious way to say 'We're alive,'" I replied blandly. "I want him to think he's safe and secure. I also want him to worry himself to death about his little friend. I've heard she's an emotional little thing."  
  
My sister smiled. "Okay. Once you get her, bring her back here."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To meet the /family/, of course," she replied, sarcasm drooling from her voice. She left the back room, shutting the door as she went.  
  
**  
  
Ok, lets get one thing straight here. 17 IS NOT GOING TO TURN FLUFFY, he's an ass and a remorseless murderer in the mirai timeline and I damn well intend on keeping it like that. So nobody tell me he needs to go show pity or something. Cuz he's not that kind of guy. ;-) 


End file.
